


Heat

by Satine86



Category: The Greatest Showman (2017)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Post-Canon, Romance, Sexual Tension, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-06-29 09:51:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15726996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Satine86/pseuds/Satine86
Summary: “I can’t think around you, Anne. Or rather all I think aboutisyou.”





	Heat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kagee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kagee/gifts).



> I'm attempting to clean out my WIP folder and actually finish things. So have this fic that's been sitting there since March. (Kagee if you're curious this was the UST doc)

It was a bit of a disaster, but given their track record over the past year… it could have been a lot worse. Not that that was much of a consolation. 

One of the main support beams of the tent had cracked and was in need of replacing, which meant the show had to be shut down for a short time. Phillip had been adamant that no one would risk injury. 

That, of course, was when the problems had arisen. Since it seemed even with countless telegrams and messengers back and forth, even with meetings that often times dissolved into yelling. So much yelling. It had taken far too long to get the correct materials delivered to the circus grounds. 

Had it been winter, it might not have been so bad. But it was the middle of summer, when the days were long and people were out looking for evening entertainment. It seemed to put the entire troupe on edge, restlessness getting the better of them while they waited in vain.

Eventually though, after several very colorful threats of violence, Phillip finally managed to get the lumberyard to deliver what was promised. Which left them only a short time replace the cracked beam, and a few others that had looked a little worse for wear. 

They gathered in the night, the circus crew and anyone else willing to help hoist the monster into place. There were lanterns and mirrors strewn about, trying to amplify as much light as possible as everyone pulled and cursed like pirates raising a mighty mast. 

Night was not the most opportune time for such an endeavor, but it would hopefully afford them enough time to get everything in place for a show the following evening. It also helped stave off the heat that had been oppressing the city for the past many days. But even in the cover of darkness, the air was still muggy and thick.

Anne watched from the sidelines, taking the time to go over ropes and rigging and anything else that might need tending or replacing. She watched as the men waited for the mark before the foreman gave a shout and they all pulled the rope as one. They were red faced from the effort, sweat pouring down their faces. 

Everything was nearly in place when a loud crack rang out as the anchoring rope snapped in two. The beam crashed to the ground, landing with a boom as loud as cannon fire. The men all tumbled backward, the force carrying them feet over head. Phillip was the first to regain his footing, yanking off his work gloves and running an agitated hand down his face. He stared at the beam and the ruined rope, muttering what Anne was certain was a litany of obscenities bawdy enough to make any society lady blush.

“I’m cursed!” he finally said out loud, throwing his gloves to the ground. “That’s the only answer.” 

“Deep breaths, Carlyle.” W.D. appeared with a cup, shoving it into Phillip’s hand. “Drink that, you’ll feel better. Then we can do the whole heave-ho again.”

Phillip nodded and threw back his head to down a large gulp of water, the rest he upended over his already sweat soaked hair. In short order the crew had new rope secured, and the men set to their task once again. 

“One,” the foreman shouted from the front of the line. “Two. PULL!” 

Again the support beam rose up, men scrambling to get it placed correctly before it was lowered with a thunk into the ground. There was a flurry of action as ropes were tied down, nails hammered, and rigging set. 

Anne gave up any pretense of looking over equipment, and instead sat watching the spectacle before her. Or rather Phillip. Clad only in his undershirt, his arms exposed and muscles straining as he helped hold the line. He practically glistened in the lantern light, from sweat and the water he had unceremoniously dumped over his head, the thin fabric of shirt clinging to his skin. All in all she found it a rather captivating picture. 

“Careful,” Lettie drawled as she took a seat beside Anne. She hadn’t even noticed Lettie’s arrival. “Keep staring like that and you might burn down the tent.” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Anne straightened her back, scoffing. She only hoped Lettie wouldn’t notice her mouth had gone a little dry. 

“I’m not judging, just teasing.” Lettie bumped Anne’s shoulder. “It’s okay to be enamored with your fella. He’s certainly enamored with you.” 

Anne rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help the pleased smile that teased the corner of her mouth. A happy shout from the ring showed that the beam was now securely in place, and the crew was free to get everything back in working order. 

The troupe and crewmen were patting each other on the back, the literal heavy lifting finally done. Anne watched as Phillip clasped hands with one of the stage crew, then winced as he pulled his own back and shook out it vigorously. He waved off the other man with a half-smile. Anne, however, continued to watch as Phillip peeled off his glove and she was certain she saw blood. He spoke briefly with the crew foreman and W.D., both men nodded and clearly told him to go. Phillip started making his way out of the ring, toward one of the small outbuildings on the circus grounds that served as his office.

“I should go see what that’s about,” she said, rising from her perch. “And don’t you say a snide word about it,” she added when she caught the look in Lettie’s eyes.

“Me? I would never!” 

“Mmhm. I’ll see you in the morning, Lettie.” 

“Afternoon more like,” was her mumbled response. 

Anne resolutely ignored that comment and followed Phillip’s path. She found him muttering a fresh litany of profanities as he rummaged around for the medical supply box in the cupboard behind his desk.

“Phillip?” 

His head snapped up at her voice. He turned slowly to face her, shoving his hand behind his back. “Anne, I didn’t think you were still up?” 

“Surprise.” She waggled a finger at the hand he was failing to hide. “What happened?” 

He looked as if he was debating on whether he should lie or not, before finally realizing that would be a terrible idea and holding out his bloodied and raw hand. “My glove ripped. I didn’t realize it was so bad until afterward.” 

“Sit down. Surprisingly, I’ve had some practice tending rope burns.” She smiled at him, a little teasing. 

He nodded, damp hair falling into his eyes and giving him a rather boyish look. As he took a seat on the worn out sofa shoved against the back wall, Anne proceeded to haul out the medical kit and sort through the items she would need. Anne spread out everything next to him on the sofa, and knelt in front of Phillip to tend the wound. She knew it would hurt for a few days, and told him as much, but it wasn’t deep and she thought it would heal nicely as long as he kept it covered. Once she finished wrapping the wound and tied off the gauze, she bent forward and gently placed a kiss against Phillip’s palm. 

“Are you all right?” she asked, still kneeling before him. With everything the past week or so, she knew he was on edge, and she knew everything tonight had taken its toll on his already frazzled nerves. She had hoped with the beam finally settled he would start to relax, but he still seemed wound too tight, ready to snap like the tethering rope earlier. Anne tried to catch his gaze, but he was staring at his hand, still cradled in hers, as if he had never seen it before. 

“Yes,” he said eventually. “I’m just tired, and frustrated. I’m glad we got that thing up though.” He turned his hand over in hers, and ran his thumb over her wrist. “I don’t think we’ll have a show tomorrow night… or is it tonight? Either way, we’ll just wait.” 

“Phillip, we want to have a show. I know it was hard work tonight, but everyone wants to get back to it. We’re restless… bored.” 

“Well, I wish I was bored.” Phillip paused and rubbed his eyes, let out a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t fair. This week has been stressful and-”

“And you're exhausted and your nerves are frayed,” Anne said gently. “It’s understandable, Phillip. Not to mention the heat--”

“Yeah, the heat.” He stared at her for a moment, almost lost in thought, before shaking himself and standing up suddenly. “You should, uh, you should go get some sleep. If you can. It’s been a long night.” 

Anne moved from the floor to the sofa and eyed Phillip closely, the tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers drummed against his pant leg. “There’s something else the matter. What is it?”

“Just what I said, tired and frustrated.” He grabbed one of his extra undershirts from the cupboard and used it to ruffle his hair into a slightly drier state. Anne continued to watch him, not so easily dissuaded. 

“No, I can tell there’s something wrong. Phillip, it’s okay. You can tell me, if it’s the show or business--”

“It’s not any of that,” he said, voice a little harsh. “It’s nothing to do with the circus.” 

“Then what is it?” 

“It doesn’t matter!” he snapped. “So why don’t you just head back to your caravan, and I’ll see you in the morning.” 

Anne eyed he askance, noting how his jaw was clenched and the way he would not meet her eye. In fact he seemed to be focusing on anywhere except for her. She rose slowly and marched up to him, forcing him to look her in the face.

“Is it me? If it’s something to do with me you tell me right now.” She crossed her arms, eyes narrowing in challenge. 

Phillip scrubbed his uninjured hand down the side of his face, eyes screwed shut. “Yes, fine, it has something to do with you. Now, please just go?” 

“You’ve lost your mind if you think I’m leaving before you tell me what this is about. If you’re mad at me, just tell me so!” 

“I feel like I have lost my mind!” He turned away from her and sank down into his desk chair, covering his face both hands. “I can’t think around you, Anne. Or rather all I think about _is_ you.”

He let out a pathetic, almost pained moan. “Do you know how many times I botched the paperwork for the lumber mill because you were sitting here reading a book, and I got distracted by the fact you were wearing little more than a slip because it was so hot? Do you know how many times I gave them the wrong delivery dates because I was too busy looking at your neck while you used one of Lettie’s stolen fans?”

Anne couldn’t help it, she laughed. So hard in fact she had to cover her mouth while her shoulders shook. “Oh, Phillip,” she sighed. 

“Please don’t start,” he said and let his head drop to the desk. “It’s bad enough without you teasing me about it.” 

She almost felt bad for him. Almost. And almost certainly wasn’t enough to stop. So Anne slid herself onto his desk. If she hitched up her skirt too far and happened to expose a swath of bare thigh, her stockings long forgotten in the heat, then it was purely an accident. 

There was a long pause before Phillip turned his head to look at her, only to be greeted with an eyeful of skin. His breath whooshed out on a wheeze, and eventually pitious blue eyes rose to meet hers. 

“All these untoward thoughts, and I was under the impression you were a gentleman,” she said with a grin.

“I should not say this but, I can assure I have not had one gentlemanly thought about you all week.” Phillip sat up with a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. “So why don’t you go now, and I will find the nearest icehouse and live there.” 

Anne giggled, but quickly sobered when she realized she didn’t want to leave. Teasing Phillip might have been entertaining, but beyond that she recognized that the whole thing sent a thrill through her. To think she held that power over him, to think his focus had been so undividedly turned on her. The knowledge of his more base thoughts sent a different kind of thrill through her.

“Tell me?”

His eyes snapped to hers, wide and uncertain. “Anne, please just go.” 

“No.” She shook her head and glanced down at her feet, dangling off the edge of his desk. “I want to know what you’ve been thinking about.” 

She lifted her gaze, looked up at Phillip through a fan of lashes. His breathing was ragged, and he looked almost pained. Involuntarily his gaze dropped down to her thigh, and he swallowed thickly, shifting in his chair. He was quiet for a long while, but Anne was patient and she waited until he finally spoke.

“Do you remember when O’Malley brought in the ice blocks?” 

It would be hard to forget since it was the hottest they had seen all week. Everyone had been practically melting in the tent, praying for even the slightest gust of wind to cool them down. But O’Malley, the blessed man, had acquired a load of ice from a friend. It had been like Christmas. But Phillip hadn’t been there, or so she’d thought. He had gone off to meet with a vendor, stuffed into a tie and jacket and looking all the more miserable for it. 

“My meeting was cut short. When I got back you had a portion of the ice, trying to cool down.” He swallowed, and she could see his mouth working as if it were dry. He lifted his hand and hesitantly reached out, she thought it shook slightly before he laid a finger against her neck. “You trailed it down your neck, and across your chest.” 

His finger followed the path the ice had, down from her pulse point to her clavicle. Anne struggled for breath. Phillip moved his finger over her chest, and then removed his hand when he reached the top of her blouse. The ice had gone further down. 

Phillip shut his eyes, forced the words out. “I thought about following that path, kissing my way down. I never imagined I would be jealous of a chunk of ice.” 

Anne could feel her pulse quicken, her lips parted as she finally managed to pull in a deep breath. The air around them was thick, the heat oppressive until it seemed to blanket you, but beyond that there was a current. A charge crackling around them as if lightning were about to strike. She could feel the hairs on the back of her neck rise. 

She didn’t say anything, couldn’t seem to find her voice, and eventually Phillip opened his eyes to meet hers. They held each other’s gaze for a long while, and something in his eyes made a shiver run down her spine despite the heat. 

“You want me,” she murmured and leaned forward, fingers digging into the edge of the desk as she brought her face in close to his. 

“Emphatically.” They were so close now Anne could feel Phillip’s breath on her chin, could see exactly when his gaze dropped to her mouth and lingered. 

She smiled slightly, suddenly breathless. “Then why don’t you take me?” she asked. 

If there was any shock or surprise on Phillip’s part, it was quickly brushed aside. All hesitancy long abandoned in the face of what was currently building between them. His eyes seemed to darken noticeably as they closed the final gap between them. Anne held her breath, waited for the moment their lips would touch. No matter how many times they had kissed before she knew, just knew, this time would be different. It would be more. 

There was a hairsbreadth between them, the slightly movement and he would be kissing her. It felt like everything had melted away, the world diminishing into nothing but a soft, distant hum. As if magic had settled over them both, cocooning them in the moment. Anne almost closed the infinitesimal space between them, and then….

There was a pounding on the door of Phillip’s office, and they broke apart as the magic broke and they were thrown back into the real world once again. Anne had leapt up from her perch on the desk, heart racing and chest heaving. She watched Phillip, still sat before his desk, his face working through a myriad of emotions she couldn’t name. 

He shut his eyes briefly, pulled in a breath before speaking. “What is it?” he called, voice sounding strangled, as if he could barely make it work. 

It was the foreman who appeared, offering his apologies for the disruption. There was another problem, Anne could barely pay attention to her own thoughts, let alone process what the man was saying. She was ready to leave, to hurry back to her little caravan on the other side of the grounds and try to calm her flustered nerves. She mumbled something about going, letting them work. 

“Wait!” She came to a halt part way toward the door, glanced back at Phillip. “We need to finish that… conversation.” He gave her an imploring look, nearly begging her to stay, and Anne found she was unable -- unwilling -- to say no. She nodded and moved to hover next to the sofa, straightening up the bandages and things still strewn across it. 

She was aware of Phillip giving his attention to the foreman, barely focused on their words as they hashed out a solution to another problem. Anne couldn’t help but wonder how Phillip managed to seem relatively put together when she herself felt like she was unraveling after everything. Then again she hadn’t had a clue about his inner turmoil all week, so supposed it was just borne of practice. 

Anne managed put everything in order, including herself. Or at least as best she could. She couldn’t help but be aware of every little thing about her appearance in that moment; her curls wild and frizzy from the humid heat, barely contained by pins and ribbons; of her overly warm, flushed face, and the line of perspiration that beaded her brow. Discreetly as she could, Anne tried to smooth down her hair, fan her heated face. 

After what seemed like an age of waiting, the problem was finally addressed and the foreman took his leave. There was a long stretch of silence after he left, Phillip standing beside his desk, Anne near the sofa, and neither looking at the other. 

“Would you still like to finish the conversation?” Anne asked, finally finding her voice. 

“Yes,” he said and met her gaze. “If you would… if the moment hasn’t past?”

There was another long pause as they gazed at each other. Anne felt like there was an entire unspoken conversation in that look along. In the distance Anne imagined she heard the roll of thunder, a summer storm on the horizon. Once again the hairs on the back of her neck rose, and shiver ran down her spine. 

Three steps, stumbling, graceless, and she was crashing into Phillip as their lips crushed together, teeth clacking, the kiss bruising. They stumbled back against his desk, his hands already working their way under her blouse. He tore his lips from hers and started kissing along that path he had marked earlier. Every inch of Anne felt like it was on fire, practically humming with an energy she had never felt before. 

Outside the window, just barely visible through the thin curtains, Anne saw lightning flash.

A pounding on the door interrupted them again. They were stockstill, frozen in place, save for the rise and fall of their chests and they sucked in air. 

“I truly am cursed,” Phillip breathed against her chest, where his lips had been blazing a path down toward the top of her blouse. He finally lifted his head. “Don’t move.” He cupped her face with both hands, pressed a searing kiss against her lips, and slipped out from between her and the desk. 

Anne moved around the desk and sank down into his chair behind it, her legs unable to hold her weight any longer, just as Phillip yanked open the door. This time it was O’Malley, and perhaps the foreman, and perhaps even W.D. All crowding around the doorway. 

The storm -- so it was real -- was worrisome to them, the circus still in disorder. There was a list of things that needed to be done, and not nearly enough time to do it before the rain hit and more lightning struck. 

“Fine, go get started. I’ll be there in a moment.” Phillip shut the door and leaned back against it. There was another thundering boom, shortly followed by a flash of light. 

“You should go, they need you.” 

Phillip let out a breath, somewhere between a sigh and a laugh. Then he crossed to where she sat in the desk chair, braced his hands on the armrests and leaned over her. 

“That would be a far more compelling argument if I didn’t need you right now,” he said. Anne smiled up at him, rested her fingers lightly against his jaw, and kissed him.

“No rest for the wicked, as they say,” she said when they pulled apart. 

He did laugh at that. “Wicked, hm? Then let me ask something in a very gentlemanly way.” He paused for a moment, lips pressed together. “Once I have completed this task at hand, may I call upon you later, Miss Wheeler? And ask that you permit me the pleasure of your company?” 

Anne giggled. “Is this the part where I bat my eyes and play coy?” 

“Perhaps, if a chaperone were watching. Luckily,” he said, lips grazing hers, “we seem to be quite unattended right now.” 

“Shocking.” She stole another kiss.

“A scandal, undoubtedly.” His lips moved to her jaw, and Anne grinned as she tilted her head. 

“Phillip?”

“Mm?”

“You have work to do.” 

He cursed, the words muffled by the fact his lips were pressed to her pulse point. Phillip dropped a kiss to the top of her shoulder and straightened up. 

“Will you call upon me later, Mister Carlyle?” she asked, offered him a teasing smile.

“If you’ll allow me.” He returned her smile. 

“I would be disappointed if you didn’t.” 

I’m going now,” he jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Or else I never will.” Shaking his head, he turned and hurried out the door. Anne watched him closely, kept her eyes on the door even long after he had gone. 

Letting out a slow breath, Anne glanced at the clock on Phillip’s desk and noted the late hour, wondering how long she would have to wait. Rising unsteadily to her feet, Anne made the slow trip to her caravan. In the distance, between the roll of thunder, she could hear shouting from the crew and those helping to tie down tents as a breeze started to pick up. She knew it wasn’t ideal for the circus, but the wind felt cool coming off the water and she relished the feel as it ghosted across her overheated skin. By the time she arrived at her caravan’s door, there were fat droplets of water hitting the ground. 

Anne waited, unable to sleep and restless as the storm rolled in. She thought it was close to dawn when a knock sounded on her door just as the skies finally opened up and a downpour started. She yanked open the door to find Phillip standing there, already getting soaked by the rain. Although neither of them moved to rectify that fact, instead they stared at each other. Then there was a clap of thunder, loud enough to rattle the windows, and a bright flash of lightning that illuminated them both. 

It was enough to put them both in motion. Anne reached out for Phillip just as he stepped inside. His lips were hot against hers and he kicked the door shut, danced her back toward her bed. Outside the storm raged, but neither of them spared it a second thought. 

Anne thought it was definitely worth the wait.


End file.
